


The Strength In You

by AngeliqueH



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Attack on Steve, Brotherly Love, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky protects his friends, Dealing With Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, James Barnes/Bucky's eyes, Music that Nat and James like, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha has her own issues, Ocean, Over protecting Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Resilience, Roadtrip, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve sketches Bucky, implied suicidal thoughts, reference to pre-serum Steve Rogers, sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6284143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliqueH/pseuds/AngeliqueH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Solider returned to Steve Rogers in critical condition many months ago. Steve optimism quickly vanished when he realised how long and painful James Barnes' recovery would be.  After last Hydra attack to get the asset back, Natasha needs a break and proposes Steve to come with her on a road trip, James comes along. Driving for many miles gives Steve time to think. Reality hits him hard when he realises that he might have been among the reasons of James' slow recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. James Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a little writing challenge about a Road trip with the Jaguars, they know who they are.  
> English is not my first language so bear with me please <3  
> Thank you so much: DanicaBarnes tracy7307 Wukky1 and LadyJolan for your help
> 
> I've been reading No More Pain by Wannabexman Great story about the Winter Soldier and his recovery, go check it out, 40 amazing chapters. At one point in first chapter I mention how the WS was in cretical condition when he showed up at Steve's appartment and how James Barnes memories had to fill the WS empty mind, credits goes to Wannabexman.

Natasha told him that he was a ghost story. No ghost fights so ferociously. For every punch Steve gives, the muzzled Soldier gives him two. The more he blocks the strikes of the metallic arm with his shield, the more Steve fear to reach the limit of the precious metal’s resistance. It all happens in a split of a second; Captain America’s shield hits the sophisticated bionic arm of the Winter Soldier then his face with a force that would knock out an average man. Steve grabs him and flips him over his back. The assassin gets up as soon as he hits the ground, unmasked.

Steve Rogers gasps and snaps his eye open, sweaty and heart pounding. It takes him a moment to remember where he is. He’s in his room in the Avengers tower. The grey bed cover and the sheet are on the floor, a sign that he’s been fighting in his sleep for a while now. To push back the last image of his dream, he focuses on one of his painting hanging on the wall. It’s the street where he grew up; or actually how he saw it from his window. The skinny and asthmatic kid he was couldn’t go out and play with the other children most of the time, so he spent days looking out this window, waiting for his friend Bucky to come to visit him after school. What he liked the most when doing this painting, Steve remembers, was putting up the colors. When looking at old pictures in some history books, people almost seem to think that life was all black and white back then, but he made sure to reproduce the colors of the buildings as accurately as possible.

The daylight filters through the curtains. Steve guess that he must have slept at least four or five hours. He reaches over and grab his phone off the nightstand, and check what time it is. 7:37 am.  ‘ _Ugh…_ ’ Ok, so it’s more like three hours if he counts all the times he woke up after turning off the lights around 3:15 am. The quick mental math confirms that he spent more time drawing than sleeping last night and the opened sketchbook and pencils left on the bedside table corroborate it. 

He gets rid of his sweaty t-shirt, pulls back the comforter, and closes his eyes… Only to open them a few seconds after to look back at James’ portrait he did last night. Just an old habit. He sketches his friend’s face every time he feels sad, or alone, or overwhelmed. He has done it so many times that he knows every single detail of James Buchanan Barnes’ face; he doesn’t even need to look at the old photographs anymore. It used to soothe him; he would fall asleep dreaming of the good old days before the war…  But something’s wrong with this one.  He’s been struggling with James’ eyes and gaze a good part of the night. He starts to wonder if it’s possible that he just forgot how he used to look at him.

Steve sighs and frowns, rubbing his scruffy beard. He knows what’s wrong. James' eyes used to have a light in them; they used to be filled with pride, a bit of mischief and a lot more tenderness that you would have expected. But for some reasons, Steve couldn’t get them right last night. Those looked dead, just like the ones of the Winter Soldier.

Steve shivers as a flash of his vivid dream comes back to his mind. The man that came back to Steve about six months ago had nothing in common with the highly trained assassin he fought against to back on the bridge. The night he surrendered himself, the asset – Hydra’s weapon – was such in a critical condition that he almost died in Steve’s little apartment in New York. Dehydrated, sleep deprived and utterly confused, he could only mumble in Russian until he whispered ‘I knew you’ just before losing consciousness.     

Steve shakes his head slightly, thinking how much happened since the night he brought the Soldier at the Avengers’ Tower to save his life. He keeps staring at James’ portrait.

‘ _God damn it…_ ’ Steve feels the frustration building in his guts when he finally gets what was wrong whit this one and why he couldn’t like it. It looked too close to the man that used to be James Barnes. The light in this man’s eyes was completely gone. No matter how hard he tried, he could hardly recognise his old friend. Lately, he felt like he was sharing his apartment with a stranger.

He runs his hand over his face, rubs his eyes then pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It’s been six long and painful months for everyone at the Avengers Tower, and they were all exhausted. Steve can’t even remember when was the last time he had a good night of sleep. His thoughts keep crashing one against the other in his mind, and he can feel a headache building up.  Super-soldier or not, the last months’ events drained him.

Of course, he knew that it wouldn’t be easy and that his friend’s recovery was going to be difficult, but… But.  Steve sighs. Why is he trying to hide his deception even when he’s alone? Once the Soldier's physical condition was stabilised, Steve had moved to his apartment in the AvengersTower to look for him. He needed to be there to help with his recovery. His optimism quickly vanished though when he realized that the Winter Soldier was just a cast made out of his old friend's body with absolutely nothing left of James Barnes' spirit in it. At one point Steve started to believe that his friend would never remember who he was, but surprisingly, James’ memories began to fill the Winter Soldier's wiped mind.

Since he brought the ex-assassin at the Tower, the Avengers have been under many vicious attacks by Hydra.  The evil organisation was obviously trying to recover its precious asset. Despite his fragile state of mind, the Soldier resisted Hydra’s conditioning and fought on Captain America’s side _._ At first, Steve was so proud of James' progress, but each attack seemed to lead to progressively harsher emotional breakdowns for his friend.  

The last attempt by Hydra to get their valued weapon back happened the previous month at one of Natasha's safe houses. Having heard rumors that another strike was coming, they tried to protect the Soldier by hiding him. This time, Hydra hit different places at the same time, splitting the team up and leaving only Hawkeye and The Black Widow to protect him.  Both Avengers were injured, but like he did in the last two previous attacks, James took most of the hits. Even if he hates to see his friend hurt –worries him sick in fact – it almost looks like it’s part of James Barnes’ recovery. Just like he used to protect Steve in the back alley when they were young, he keeps sacrificing his body to protect hi new friends.

With a sigh, Steve shuts tight his eyes and re-opens them, then start blinking the restrain the tears that were filling his eyes. He hates himself for this but, considering how Bucky’s been acting the last past weeks; he can’t help but having doubts. What if what appears to be a noble act of self-sacrifice from James was, in fact, an attempt to end his life? Even though he keeps telling his friend that it is not his fault, that it was Hydra's conditioning, James keeps blaming himself for all the deaths the Winter Soldier was responsible for.

Unable to bare the thought a second longer, he grabs his sketch book and throws it at his bedroom’s wall with all the strength of his arm, ruining the book and knocking the painting off the wall. He hears the frame breaking as it touches the floor and the canvas tearing.

“Stupid Jerk!” Steve shouts out of frustration to an imaginary Bucky. He takes a deep breath and calms down. That felt good actually. 

The peace and quietness of his apartment feel unusual. Steve knows that he is alone in the apartment and that James is already gone to the common floor because that’s what he’s been doing every day for the last two weeks. Yesterday, Steve had told Natasha about James’ new morning routine, and she proposed to watch over their friend in the morning to give Steve some time to rest. Working on his art up until the middle of the night was not exactly what Nat was referring to when talking about getting some rest.

Things had been so crazy since James came back to his life that he almost forgot what it was like to wake up and take some time to think, not having to rush out of bed to care for his friend. Sitting on his bed in silence meant there were no sounds to hide behind, no distraction to keep him from thinking about the emotional violence of the last months. James' recovery brought joyful memories and nostalgic anecdotes, but also sad and explosive episodes of flashbacks. Every other night, Steve would rush to James’ bedroom to wake up his friend stuck in a horrific nightmare or clean after him when he was sick from the pain. He would change the wet sheets of his bed or just sit by him, stroking his hair until he would fall back asleep.

Lately, those heartbreaking moments seemed to be occurring less and less, but James didn’t look happier. In fact, he seemed more depressed than ever. Sam had told Steve that James was probably just keeping his dark thoughts to himself now, using new protective systems created by his damage brain. Doing so, he started to shut down everyone around him and became more drawn into himself.

After the attack on the safe house, he literally stopped speaking to everyone, only moaning once in a while from the pain coming from his broken ribs and the many lacerations inflicted to his body by Hydra's men. Their last strike to regain what was left of the Winter Soldier only brought more distress to James, who would now remain in complete silence for days, unresponsive and distant. He might not have been under Hydra's control anymore, but he still ended up with more blood on his hands against his will.

Steve stomach’s growls and he decides to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. He heads for the shower, leaving the softness of his bed behind. Passing by James’ bedroom, Steve sees his friend’s bed perfectly done; the blue pants and white shirt of his pyjama are folded and placed on top of one of his pillows. The room smells like it has been meticulously cleaned and disinfected. Bucky’s laptop, the only think his friend owns, his missing from the desk.  If it weren't for James' PJs, nobody could tell that a man has been sleeping there for the last six months. Maybe Natasha was right; he is a ghost. The ghost of Sargent James Buchanan Barnes.


	2. Just drive

When Steve finally walks into the common room that morning, Natasha is sitting on the couch, reading The Trial by Kafka. Well, as far as Steve’s knowledge of German goes, he’s pretty sure Der Process translates to that.

Bucky is sitting by the window at one of the small tables, his eyes drifting from his laptop to the city landscape then back to the computer Tony had given him. He holds his metallic arm with his good one and Steve wonders how painful its weight must be for his friend's body. About two months ago – Steve remembers because it started right in the middle of a heat wave - James became very self-conscious about his metallic arm. Since then, he was very cautious not showing in, always wearing a long sleeves shirt and a glove. He almost barely uses it anymore, and Steve suspects that his friend would prefer to live whit only one arm than to be constantly reminded that he used to be Hydra’s most efficient weapon.

“Hi everyone.” Bucky doesn’t respond in any way, but Steve keeps looking at him with compassion then turn his eyes to Nat. Her neck was still bruised by the last assailant who tried to strangle her.

"Good mornin' Captain," She says without lifting her eyes from her book.

“Where’s Barton? I’d need to speak to him about…”

“He’s home” She cuts. “With wife and kids. And his hurt pride. Said he needed to get out of here, to change air... Speaking of which, got any plans for the weekend?”

"Uh, well, no, not really... why?" Steve ask with a sudden curiosity.

"Well, I'm still on leave, the doc thinks that I'm supposedly not fit for the field yet," she says, rolling her eyes. Steve is not quite sure what he is supposed to answer to that, but she continues before he even opens his mouth.

"Anyway, I'm leaving for a few days; care to join me?"

The idea of leaving the city for a few days sounds fabulous for a second but then, Steve remembers that he can't let Bucky alone. He can't count on Bruce or Tony to look out for him either since they are too busy in their labs, and Sam is back to Washington. That leaves Steve not many options. He looks at Bucky then back a Nat with requesting eyes.

"Of course, James is coming with us." she says.

"James?" Steve come closer to his friend who is looking blankly at his computer, unaware of the ongoing conversation.

"Hey James," Steve kneels beside his friend and speaks to him softly. He puts his hand on Bucky's arm, to get his attention. "Would you like to come with Natasha and I on a road trip?"

James turns his head and looks at Steve with puzzled eyes, not sure of what the proper answer is. Despite all the progress he had made since he came back to Steve, taking his own decisions was still difficult. The last weeks have been particularly harsh, and Steve can't help but notice the black circle under his friend's eyes and how thin he was. He opens his mouth and move his lips slightly like he was about to say something, but he retracts and lowers his head.

"James, you heard me? Would you like to come with us?"

Bucky looks up again, this time to Natasha, almost like he was looking for approval. She smiles kindly at the man who saved her live just a month ago. Then he nods gently, reminding Steve of a child.

"Alright then! Get your stuff; I want to leave in less than an hour. I can't stand to look at those walls anymore," Nat says as she gets up the couch and walks out the room with firm steps.

~*~

The two men are waiting near the elevator with their duffle bags ready when Natasha shows up. She's dressed up with blue skinny jeans, a little black vest over a light grey t-Shirt saying ‘Fight like a girl’ and a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, a warmer coat in one hand and a backpack on the opposite shoulder.

"D’you have your keys? I don’t want to go around in one of Tony’s flashy cars." Steve's blue Silverado pickup truck has been parked in the underground garage for so long that he forgot about it. 

"Uh, let me get them," and he rushes back to his room.

"Who's driving first?" Steve asks, walking back to the elevator.

"I don't know! Bucky, do you want to drive?" she asks with a mocking smile while Steve stares at her, wide-eyed.

Bucky doesn't answer back immediately, but then he snorts and offers a slight smile in response. Then he looks at Steve and shakes his head slowly to say no.

Once on the parking level, the elevator’s doors open and Steve lets Bucky walk out then steps in Natasha’s way.

“What the hell was that about? Why take the chance to upset James even more? You know damn well he’s not fit to drive, probably never will…”

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps telling stories about the good old days and how he used to love driving and fixing cars.”

“Oh! Ok! So you thought ‘let’s remind him that he can’t drive and that it’s just something else that Hydra took from him?’” Steve tries to keep his voice low but barely contains himself.

“Calm down Rogers and stop over protecting Bucky. And for God’s sake, stop projecting your own fears onto him. As far as I know, he did answer, right?”

“Well, if you consider this an answ…”

“Listen, he might not be speaking much these days, but he doesn’t need you to answer for him! Now get out of my way.” She tilts her head and turns her eye away from Steve then nods toward Bucky. “Let’s go; he’s waiting for us.”

~*~

“I’ll drive first if we want to get somewhere eventually!” Steve obviously hears the irony in her voice but says nothing. The idea that he might catch one or two hours of sleep on the backseat sounds pretty good in fact. 

Nat climbs behind the steering wheel while James hesitantly sits in the passenger seat.

"Buckle up guys!" she says as she fastens her seatbelt.

"What, are you planning to crash us at some point?" Steve asks from the backseat.

"For your information, Grand-Pa America" - she makes sure to emphasize on this- "we have to buckle those things up nowadays." Steve knows better than to argue with her and just laugh, happy to finally leave the tower.

Natasha maneuvers the truck around the city traffic skillfully and soon enough they are out on the highway. She looks relaxed and happy for once. Bucky keeps looking out the window, face neutral and Steve is about to fall asleep on the backseat.

“What? You're already falling asleep? Jesus Steve, didn’t I told you to rest last night? I know you skipped your morning run; I thought you decided to sleep a few more hours or just relax in bed… like normal persons do sometimes” She glances quickly at Steve in the mirror. “You know your bed won’t swallow you, right?” she says with a twisted smile on her face.

' _Ok, she'll never let go the bed story apparently'_ Steve thinks how he should never have told her that sleeping on his memory foam bed felt like lying on a big marshmallow.

“Well, I tried, I just…

“I told you not to worry about” she stops for a second… “About you know what.” She says carefully, glancing at James, who was sitting next to her but apparently not paying attention to their conversation.

Steve remembers how he ruined his sketchbook earlier this morning. He’s still pissed about not being able to do James’ portrait properly like he used to.

“I swear I tried Nat. I went to bed right after James.” He skips the part about listening to James’ muffled cry for a good part of the night and that he started sketching while waiting for Bucky to fall asleep and hear his deep breathing.

“Where are we going anyway?” He asks, changing the subject.

“I don’t know yet. Let’s just drive and stop when we’re too tired.”

“You know I could drive all night long; we might end up too far…”

“Stop showing off, Captain!” She can’t hide her smile as she zig-zag her way into the ‘too-slow-moving-for-her’ traffic.

About an hour or so later, Nat takes the exit to escape the highway's monotony in favor of the back roads. Bucky, who still didn’t say a word since they left, turns his head and stares at Natasha, who keeps her eyes on the road, entirely aware that she is being watched. She finally meets James’ eyes and smiles gently at him. He bites his lips and lower his blue eyes before turning his head to look at the rolling fields of the farms passing by the window.

“You like it better here, isn’t it?” she asks knowing already the answer.

He lowers his head and looks nervously at his hands. He’s still biting on his lower lip and looks like he wanted to speak but nods timidly instead.

“Yes,” James whispers.

To fill the silence, Natasha hits play on her Spotify playlist. The grainy blues music from The Bones of J.R. Jones starts. The plaintive voice of the singer sings of loss and hope and longing for home. James turns his head again and looks curiously at the radio. He doesn't say anything this time, but Nat's choice of music seems to please him. 

~*~

It's already late when Natasha stops for a break. While Steve refuels the truck, Natasha takes charge of the snacks. James, all dressed in black as usual, comes out too and quickly disappears without saying anything. They are in the middle of nowhere and aside the lights coming from the gas station and the convenience store, all the surroundings are dark.

Once he's done fueling the truck, Steve makes a sign to Natasha to pay for the gas while she's still in the store. Considering the desolate state of the place, he's not sure if it's a good idea to use the facilities and seriously consider the bushes behind the building. A sign in the window says that the door for the men’s facilities is located behind the station, so Steve walks to the back of the building. Only one bulb is lightening the way; the other ones have burnt probably long ago. Its flickering light makes creepy shadows, but Steve has seen worst. Apparently, the sign in the window didn't mention that they were locked and that he needed to get the key from the shop assistant who kept it behind the counter.

“Ah! Come on!”

Steve swears under his breath and tries to break the lock of the door with his amplified strength. Just when he’s about to turn around to back to the front of the building, he feels something cold on his throat. A blade, a sharp knife’s blade.

“Drop it,” the voice says. Steve sees in the corner of his eye that the man behind him is about his height but much less muscular.

“Drop what?”

“Drop your truck’s key. Might as well throw in your phone and wallet as well.”

‘ _What? Is this really happening?_ _Captain America is threatened by a back road mugger?’_ Steve can’t help but think how ridiculous his trip to the men’s room is turning into. A weird feeling of dejà vu fills Steve’s mind when he remembers the back alley where he used to be beaten up by bullies.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Steve asks calmly.

“You think you can resist?”

‘ _Ok, the man really doesn’t know who I am’_ Steve thinks as he tries to turn his head to speak the thin man out of the trouble he put himself into. But he feels the blade pressing more firmly on his throat.

“Look, sir; you don’t know who you’re messing with, me and my frie…”

“Oh, that red head bitch you’re talkin' about? Is she a friend of yours? Don’t worry about her; my guy will take care of her as soon as she gets out of the station…” The man’s breath stinks from alcohol and cigarettes.

“Ok, I heard enough,” Steve takes the man by surprise with how fast and strong he is. He grabs the man’s wrist with both of his hands and pushes away the blade, but when he turns to punch the man, he freezes and stops all attempt to defends himself. Another man, smaller, broad shoulders, belly showing from under his shrunken shirt, is standing about 10 feet away and aiming at Steve with a rifle. Steve wonders how come he didn’t hear them coming. Those guys must have done this trick on lost out of towners more than once.

Steve quickly calculates the chances for his next move. How could he use the tall man as a human shield? He notices a stealthy motion from the shadows behind the man holding the gun and in a split of a second, he knows exactly what to do. Without any further thought, Steve turns in holding tight to the man’s arm holding the knife. Exposing the man’s back to a possible gunshot. Holding tight to the knife arm, he quickly flips the guy over his hip and the man lands on the cold, hard, cement. Steve pulls and twists the arm until there is a loud crack from the elbow breaking. The knife releases into Steve's open hand. He stands and with a quick flipping motion, sends the blade to the man standing in the shadows. The ex-Winter Soldier quickly catches the knife with his metallic hand and flips it skillfully as he comes out of the shadow. In a split of a second, the blade in on the gun holder’s neck; who didn’t even have the time to realize what was going on. The man was breathing heavily, unable to escape from the firm grip that is holding him, he starts screaming when the blade starts cutting into his flesh, drops of blood running down on his neck. The experimented hand of James stops suddenly then throws away the knife into the bushes. The panicked man receives a strong blow to the base of his skull and falls to the ground, unconscious.

James walks toward Steve; his eyes filled with rage, lips tight, jaw stiff, but in total control of what he is doing. He kneels next to the man with the broken elbow who’s still screaming in pain and puts his left metallic hand on the man’s neck, holding him steady, strangling him. The man starts to choke. James puts a little more pressure, he's about to kill him. Bucky closes his eyes tights, shakes his head before he opens them back up with a determined expression. To Steve’s relief, he lifts up his right arm and swings a direct punch into the man’s face to knock him out, leaving the man with a broken nose and a broken elbow but alive. His friend will probably have a TBI but will live too. James finally stands up after a couple of minutes, his flesh hand slightly shaking as the adrenaline rush fades from his body.

Steve shivers; until now, he never saw the ex-assassin sparing a man's life except this one time when he saved him from the Potomac. Since he came back, each times Hydra attacked the Avengers, James would let the Soldier take control of his body and turn into a lethal weapon without mercy. Steve knows the Winter Soldier will always be buried in James' mind but for the first time in a combat situation, his friend didn't let him take control. Tonight, James Barnes decided that he didn't need more blood on his hands.

"Bucky! What the hell just happened there? Who are those men?"

James looks at Steve, breathing slowly. He turns his blue eyes to the men then drift his gaze to the black Dodge Challenger, carefully parked to be unseen. Steve didn't notice it before.

"I spotted them as soon as we got here. I didn’t know the first had a knife but saw the second one coming at you with that rifle. Total lack of training. Not Hydra for sure. Just assholes." James’ voice was rough from disuse.

“Well, looks like I missed all the fun.” Nat walks toward the two unconscious men. The right arm of the tallest one resting in an unusual angle. She takes a closer look at them.

“Yup, that’s them. Police’s been looking for those two assholes for months if I trust the warning notice taped on the ladies’ room door.”

“Should we….” Steve looks at Natasha, concerned. “Should we report that?”

“I don’t want to lose my time here; we’ll inform the police on our way.” Then she looks at James, worried.

Without a word, James understands and raises his left metallic hand as he walks toward the truck, without looking at Steve and Natasha.

“Don’t worry about them finding the knife: no prints, they’ll never know I was here…”

Nat turns her head to Steve.

“Hum, well, I did touch it, but I’m pretty sure S.H.I.E.L.D. made sure that my prints are in no database.”

Natasha nods with satisfaction and starts walking back to the truck with Steve following her.

After the gas station incident, James remained silent, avoiding Steve’s attempts to have a conversation. Glen Miller’s music was now playing on the radio and Steve felt like all this was surreal. James finally fell sound asleep, exhausted from all his sleepless nights. It comes to Steve's mind that he have heard him cry almost every night, his room being next to his. Not the painful cry and the screaming nightmares the tortured Winter Soldier would have when he came back to Steve, but a strangled sob, a soul-deep weeping of a tormented man realizing how much blood was on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wonder what song of the Bones of J.R. Jones is on Natasha's playlist, listen to Sing Sing from the Wildness album


	3. Blue as the Ocean

It's still early in the morning; about 6 am when Steve finds a spot to park his pick-up truck near a public beach access along the Nags Head oceanfront on the Outer Banks. From where he is, Steve sees the cold October wind blowing the sand off the beach. The sunrise gives orange and pink tones to the cloudy sky.

Natasha has been awake for the last two hours but remained in silence until now.

“Turn it off.”

“Turn off what?” Steve ask, surprised. ‘ _Ok, what’s up with everyone playing guessing with me today’_ he keeps for himself.

“The radio, turn it off... Steve, please…” she replies with a soft, pleading voice.  Steve adjust the rear-view mirror to look at her.

He turns off the Classical Music Channel, wondering what was wrong when she cuts him before he even asks.

“Le Sacre du Printemps,” she says in French…. They’re playing Stravinsky’s Rite Of Spring… I can’t stand to listen to it anymore. I used to dance this ballet back in Russia. It’s about the sacrifice of a young girl to the God of Spring… she’s killing herself through dance…”  She turns her head to avoid Steve’s gaze, trying to hide whatever painful memories the music brought back to her.

Steve stays quiet and looks at the sunrise a few more minutes.  When he finally turns his head to look at Natasha in the backseat, she already has her jacket on and she’s wrapping her scarf around her bruised neck; she avoids looking at Steve’s face when she quickly wipes one of her eye with the back of her hand. He taps on James’ left shoulder and shakes him gently awake.

"James, we're here. James, it's time to wake up." Steve feels sorry to insist, wondering if he should let his friend sleep.

"Bucky! Wake up!" Natasha says louder.

James opens his eyes slowly and blinks a few times.

"Humm... what... he mumbles, half-asleep, rubbing his eyes and face with his flesh hand, struggling to find his awareness.

As Natasha opens her door, Steve goes out too and walks to the other side to get his jacket tossed in the backseat. Then, he opens his bag to pick one of his warm sweaters for his friend who apparently didn't bother to bring any. Steve knows that his friend's self-preservation instinct is still affected by Hydra's mind wiping, at least, that's what Dr. Banner told him.  He secretly fears that his friend rather thinks that a murderer is not entitled to any comfort and security.

They cross the wooden boardwalk that leads them through the dunes to finally set foot on the beach.  The sight is breathtaking. The immensity of the ocean is overwhelming for Steve, making him feel small, and reminds him that one simple drop of water, as harmless as it is, can become a powerful destructive force when united with others. The breeze coming with the rising tide fills his lungs with salt air.  The rhythm and the roaring sound of the sea are soothing, like a mother singing his child to sleep.

Natasha breaks Steve’s the state of hypnosis.

"I'll go for a walk if you don't mind," having, apparently, no intentions of being accompanied.

Steve only does a few steps in the sand before he decides to sit. He scoops the sand to make a little pillow, brings the hood of his jacket over his head and lays down directly on the beach. Tired of driving all night, he closes his eyes and dozes off quickly.

The twenty minutes -or is it forty? - power nap is enough for Steve to feel rested. When he opens his eyes, Natasha is a little silhouette walking along the water's edge far away.  The peace inside him has certainly something to do with the fact that for a short moment, in a long time, he’s not worrying about... His friend...

"James? You’re still there pal?"

 _'Oh God, where did he go_?' he wonders, hating himself after falling asleep so quickly. He stands up fast and starts searching everywhere for his unpredictable friend. The rays of the rising sun passing through a hole in the clouds are blinding. The wind whips Steve's face, and the anxiety is filling his guts. He looks for what's left of James footsteps in the sand when he finally sees him in the distance. 

From afar, facing the big blue ocean, James Buchanan Barnes looks like he's surrendering himself like he had nothing left in him to fight. On his knees, head down, his metallic arm still, his body shaking slightly from sobbing. What was left of his friend's will to recover from Hydra's inflicted suffering seemed to have vanished completely. Fearing another breakdown, Steve starts running toward Bucky.

Then something strikes him. He stops as he comes closer and observes his friend attentively, realizing that what he saw from the distance was, in fact, distorted by his inner fears. Natasha was right back in the elevator. He is projecting onto him.

Instead of sobbing, his friend was, in fact, giggling gently. His metallic arm was remaining still because, as sophisticated as it was, it could never feel the fineness of the sand. Steve looks at James digging the fingers of his flesh hand in the cold sand. Bucky takes a handful of it, and he lets it filter through his fingers, slowly. He repeats it, again and again, his eyes filled with wonder. Completely hypnotized, he doesn't notice Steve walking and kneeling in front of him.

James suddenly stops and looks deeply into Steve's eyes. This time, there is no confusion, no worries, no pain, no sadness in Bucky's blue eyes. The sunlight made his eyes look so bright, so alive, just how Steve remembered them.

A thin line, a shy smile... Bucky looks down again at the sand. He caresses it as gently as a normal person would touch the delicate skin of a young child. A surprising softness coming from the man who, not so long ago, was still the Fist of Hydra.

He looks up slowly, the rays of the rising sun illuminate his face. Then, the most beautiful thing Steve saw since the war drawn itself on James' face. A smile, a real, genuinely felt, smile.

James finally notices that Steve is staring at him. He brings his flesh hand to his friend's face who apparently could not hold his tears any longer. He wipes Steve's wet eyes just like he used to do many years ago when he was the strongest one, the one constantly looking out for his fragile friend, protecting him from the bullies, comforting him after he was beaten up and humiliated. He takes Steve into his arms and hold him firmly, rubbing his back with his metallic hand. Steve rest his head on James' chest like he did so many times when he was all skinny and sick and finally let himself break into tears, not caring for once about what effect this could have on James’ fragile state of mind.

When Steve's cry turns into a silent sob, James pulls him back slowly and speaks in a soft but confident voice.

"Hey Punk, why are you cryin'?"

That was James Buchanan Barnes speaking; Steve never forgot it after all these years. Even though he’s been back for a few months now, James was still struggling with the Winter Soldier’s identity, trying to take control of the ex- assassin's mind filled with pain and violence. But at this specific moment, on the beach, at the dawn of a cold October day, Steve could finally recognize Bucky's real voice, his tone, his accent from Brooklyn; also his way to look at him, to smile back at him. The last time he saw this light in his friend's eyes was more that seventy years ago. Those were the eyes that Steve wanted to draw last night but couldn’t remember anymore how to do so. James looks nothing like the lost Winter Soldier anymore.

Steve finally manages to answer with a strangled voice.

"Because it's good to have you back Bucky!"

Steve ignores the warning of his conscience telling him not to be too optimistic. For the moment, all he wants is to let this pit in his guts usually filled with sadness to be replaced by hope, and maybe a little bit of happiness, for the both of them. He wants to be thankful for the second chance life has given them. He wants to get rid of the guilt that chokes him little more every day.

James brings back Steve's head on his chest and strokes his hair gently then he pushes him back and looks at him intensively. He smiles shyly and rub the back of his neck.

“Um… You know Steve, I’ve been thinking lately…”

“Oh, you mean not talking to anyone for a whole damn month?” Steve says, sounding more accusatory than he'd intended, failing at hiding how it affected him. James lowers his gaze, and his smile fades completely. Steve bites his lips, regretting what he just said when he sees James’ sad look.

“I, … I’m sorry Buck. The last past months have been hard for everyone…”

“I learned that the silence gives space,” James says thoughtfully, with a low voice, almost a whisper.  All the ‘proud Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes’ attitude was gone one more time. “I wanted to give you space. I’ve been only trouble for you since I came back…”

“No Bucky, don’t say that! You haven’t….” Steve starts, but James cuts him right there.

“Jesus, Steve! When did you become such an idiot!” James says more and more frustrated. “Can’t you just listen to me for once?”  James rubs his face with his flesh hand while Steve looks away. Both men were taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.

“The more I remember, the more I see the way you look at me with your puppy eyes. I can’t stand it anymore!” James pauses, and looks into Steve’s blue eyes filled with sorrow and regrets, knowing that he made his point. He shakes his head and looks away again before he continues.

“You keep saying that I’m not alone, but I feel like I’m one thousand miles away from you and from the man you want me to be… And I’m scared...” James’ voice breaks. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He reaches for every once of courage. His voice is just a whisper now. “I’m scared that I’ll never live up to your expectations Stevie.”

“Bucky!” Steve reaches for his friend’s head and presses his forehead against his. “Bucky, I’m so so sorry! I never…” This time, it's Steve's voice that breaks. His eyes fill with tears again. “I tried so hard to be strong for the both of us, but it’s so hard with all this guilt that’s eating me from the inside…” He pushes Bucky gently and turns his head in shame, tears running down his cheeks. “I should have come to look for you when you fell off this train!” Steve gets up on his feet and takes a few steps in the sand to get away from James. The pale morning sun is now hiding behind the clouds. He fills his lungs with the salt tasting air.

They both remain quiet for a while, the silence only filled with the sound of the roaring sea. Looking at the waves breaking on the shore one after the other one, Steve realizes how selfish he has been. He wanted James to be just like he remembered him, just how he was when they were young, before the war, before Zola’s experimentation back in this POW camp, before he felt from the train. He wanted Bucky back the way he was so he could stop feeling guilty for all the pain his friend endured. He was the reason James enrolled into the army, knowing how his sick and skinny friend wanted to fight the Nazis. He was the one James followed with the Howling Commandos after being rescued, hiding his pain and distress inflicted by Zola's experimentations. Steve can't help but blame himself for not returning to look for James after he fell off the train, assuming that his best friend was dead.

Steve walks back to sit next to his friend, both of them looking at the horizon. James finally breaks the silence.

"You know," he pauses, searching for the right words. "You know I'll never be the same, Stevie. You know I…” he sighs and corrects his words, “Hydra- made me do things… Pl… Please, just stop looking for the man I used to be… And stop acting like…” He hesitates, “like I am your mission. All this wasn’t your fault; you’re killing the both of us with all this guilt…  I don’t care that you are taller and stronger now...  I just want to… I mean, I promise, I'll keep looking out for you as long as I live...”

A long silence follows James words. Both men lost in their inner turmoil, rocked by the sound of the rough sea. Bucky's long dark hair ruffled by the sea breeze.

“Then I’ll be the strength in you, Buck.” Steve finally says.

“You always were Stevie. You always were…” James Barnes whispers.


End file.
